


Countdown

by elixile



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Dirge of Cerberus: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Gen, Guns, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:56:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24089257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elixile/pseuds/elixile
Summary: Post DoC, they're doing all the can to rebuild the planet. But there is one person still notably missing.
Relationships: Reeve Tuesti/Vincent Valentine, Rufus Shinra/Tseng, Shalua Rui/Reeve Tuesti, Tseng/Reeve Tuesti
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25





	Countdown

**Author's Note:**

> Relationships are merely implied. Though they all affect Reeve deeply. Got some inspiration for this from a very old Pulp tune and some RP partners - sanguinesaint in particular who had me shipping Tuestentine for the very first time.

The alarm clock rings. It is 5.30am. Reeve turns over onto his stomach and gently pokes it off. It is dark, but his eyes are already adjusted. He gets up.

He is in the ruins of Midgar now. He drove there in a car, not in Shadowfox. Two men in brown uniforms with sandy blonde hair run up to him, with a prompt, “Commissioner, Sir!” A third salutes from the wreckage above.

“At ease, gentleman.” A small wave to the figure beyond, “And lady.”

Dark hazel eyes survey the scene. A whole complex under a whole city, _his city_ , and he had never even known the _true_ purpose of its existence. Now Midgar is in further ruin, the bowels of Deepground spewed forth in a vicious evisceration, “We need InSAR sweeps at these locations, eight teams, scientist and two soldiers a piece. Stabilise the ruins and report back to me.”

He can still recall only a few hours ago, their voices joining together. He can still see the colossal Omega, the demon soul, Chaos. Somewhere in all this is _Shalua_. Somewhere out there, he knows not where, is _Vincent_.

He was the one who dragged them both into this battle.

It is on his conscience now, “Come on then people, let’s get to work.”

* * *

The alarm clock rings. It is 5.30am. Reeve reaches out with a palm and slaps it off. It is light, the false electric zeitgeber to another day humming around him. He is sitting on his bed, dressed. Paperwork is spread around him. He gets up.

The preliminary results from the previous day’s effort are promising. Engineering teams ready to move in situ. Edge should not feel any of the after effects of the battle, loose threads have been eliminated. Three hundred and ninety two, check three, people have been relocated. Instability has been confined. 

He presses a fast dial key and holds the PHS to his ear, “Captain, this is Reeve. What’s your status?”

“What’s my status? What’s my- What d’ya think my fuckin’ status is Reeve?! My bird’s been turned to a big pile o’ scrap junk shit and Shera’s running round here goin’ all mother hen on Shalua’s sis, when all Shelke’s afta is a fully functioning mako pod!”

He moves the PHS away from his ear.

“Now ya have me flyin’ ships all over the place pickin’ up godsdamned radar patterns when we shoulda been out lookin’ for that moody fuckin’ bastard that just saved all our skins! What the hell ya playin’ at Reeve?”

He can still recall two days ago. Somewhere in his head he knows that Cid is looking out for them all. Cid cares.

Somewhere out there is Vincent. 

He thinks he knows where, “Whatever you need to help you rebuild the Shera, Cid, I’ll do whatever it takes. Stick with the sweeps for now. We still need you. Reeve out.” 

* * *

The alarm clock rings. It is 5.30am. Reeve closes his fingers into a fist and punches it off. It is murky, that muzzy darkness of half-lit consciousness. He is lying on his back, on top of his quilt, fully dressed, even wearing his boots. He gets up.

He is on his way into Edge, walking this time. It is mid-morning as he hears a familiar ring tone. Flipping his phone open he answers, “This is Reeve.”

“Reeve? Tifa here. I was… wondering if you would like to stop by Seventh Heaven if you’re in the neighbourhood. I can start a pot of coffee for you?” His mouth feels dry. He cannot recall the last time he drank anything. 

He can still recall however, in vivid detail, the events of three days ago. “That would… be nice, thank you Tifa. I can be there in ten.”

Seventh Heaven is busy. Too busy for the way he is feeling, but he puts a smile on his face and greets the barmaid, the children. He ruffles hair and pinches cheeks, Cait Sith is around playing hide and seek.

Somewhere out there is Vincent, the countdown is starting from a hundred. 

“I’m sorry for asking you over, Reeve. They just needed to know everything is alright. We were all kinda worried you know?”

“It’s fine. Don’t worry, Tifa. Everything’s ticking over now. Deepground has gone. Omega has gone.”

He leaves Seventh Heaven, his mouth is still dry.

He never got around to finishing that sentence: _Vincent has gone_.

And he is not bringing him back.

* * *

The alarm clock rings. It is 5.30am. Reeve grips his fingers around the shell and slams it down to off. The light flickers mildly as he taps it. He is already sat poised on the edge of his bed. He gets up.

He is in his office now, sat before his desk. He only vaguely remembers how he got there, but the events of over four days ago are still vividly defined. HQ is a mess. His head is a mess. The numbers in front of him are a mess.

“Still not got any good security, right bossman? I just waltzed right up here! We-ell, least I’m here now; the one and only White Rose of Wutai to save the day yet ag- _Blech!_ What’s happened to your face?”

He blinks, rubs a hand along his jaw. His beard is much longer now, “I thought I’d try out a new image. What can I do for you, Yuffie?” He sounds remarkably normal.

“Well it’s certainly not working out for ya, Reevers. And I came here to see if you’ve heard from Vincent.”

 _Vincent_. He can still hear their voices joining together.

That had been all of four days ago,“Why _would_ I have?” He is sounding less normal now, strain apparent in his tone, “I’m not his keeper.”

“Whoah, keep ya beard on! Actually, forget that, don’t- Please don’t. And y'know I was only _asking_. I can’t ring his number, right? I’ve been looking for days! What if he’s hurt, like really hurt? Don’t you even care?!”

He picks up his papers, “Evidently I don’t care enough. You’re the intelligence officer here, so why don’t you go use your skills and do your job? I’m sure he’d appreciate it.” He does not look at her shocked features, “I still need to go over these.”

“What the- Oh right, I get it, this is a joke! Yeah? Geez, Reeve, why are ya actin’ like such a big jerk all of a sudden? Vincent was there because _you_ asked him, _you_ got him mixed up in all this mess and now you’re not even _bothered_?”

By the time he looks back up, Yuffie had already stormed away.

* * *

The alarm clock rings. It is 5.30am. Reeve picks up the clock and throws it against the wall. It shatters, the resultant surge trips the switch and everything goes from light to dark. He is slumped against his bed. He gets up.

The day drags by. He cannot remember what it feels like to wake up. He cannot remember what if feels like to sleep. All he can remember is five days ago.

Vincent is out there somewhere. He thinks he knows where he is, but he is not following. The countdown keeps going.

And Vincent is not coming back.

It is evening when he hears voices coming down the corridor, “Why we doin’ this again, boss?”

“Returning a favour. Two favours actually.”

“I never thought I’d see the day you’d turn down a drink, Reno.”

“An’ I never thought I’d see the day you’d grow a set of balls, Laney, but it happened. Ow, what the fuck, Rude? I was just makin’ a point.”

“…”

“You didn’t need to do it with your hands!”

“Reeve?”

He settles a look on the Wutaian Turk, dim hazel-green eyes hazily spilled. He sees concern behind dark ellipses and grimaces, “I don’t need any favours repaying, Tseng.” 

There is a hand touching his shoulder. He smacks it away sharply.

“Change of plan. Reno, Rude, go set up the playground. Elena, Reeve, follow me.”

He does not budge until two sets of hands wrench him from the seat, “You need to work off some of this aggression, Reeve. I’m not taking no for an answer.”

There is a gun in his hand now. He remembers building this suite, coding some of the programmes. He calls out **“Guard Hounds** ” and ignores the way the others are looking at him. He feels the ricochet warm in his shoulder and keeps on shooting. 

“Accuracy at 83%. Not bad at all.”

“Increase numbers-” He can still recall five days ago, six, seven, eight, nine. 

“Increase difficulty-” More. Two weeks, three weeks, four. And Vincent is there, _in all of it_.

“Dropping to 79, 74, 72%. Reeve?”

> _(“I’ll take care of your pet problem, just keep driving.”)_

“Reeve, I think that’s enough.” 

His vision is blurring.

> _(“I used to be nothing but a stone in the river of time.”)_

“Reeve! I said, that’s enough!”

* * *

There is an alarm. Reeve reaches out but only manages to catch thin air. It is dark but the lights suddenly switch on. He blinks against the brightness.

There is someone _else_ there, “Vincent?”

“No. Sorry to disappoint.” 

He cannot recall how he got here, all he can recall is… is… Vincent is out there, somewhere. This is someone else entirely, “Tseng? Wha- what time is it?”

“5.30am. I thought you need to get back into your routine, so I set the alarm on my PHS. Your alarm clock is looking a little worse for wear.”

He heaves a huge sigh of relief.

“Of course, it is 5.30am on _Thursday_.”

“I was out for over a day? Why didn’t you wake me?!”

“Because I estimate you had been mostly awake for five days straight before you _collapsed with exhaustion_. That’s mildly impressive, even by your standards of insomnia.”

He gets up. He feels shaky on his feet. He cannot remember the last time he ate. His stomach is hollowed out and roiling, “I cannot believe you let me go for that long without waking me. I have things that need to be done, things I need to _do_!”

“No you don’t. Take a look around. Go on…” Tseng emphasised around hidden tones, “Go on, take a look at all those people out there fast asleep in their beds. Everything is still moving forward, Gaia is still turning. The threat has gone, at least for the foreseeable future. You never were any good at taking time out after achieving something. You did it, Reeve, stop taking all the blame.”

> _(“Don’t take all the blame.”)_

He can still hear Vincent’s gravelled voice. He can still see the colossal Omega, the demon soul, Chaos. 

“Like hellfire I did! I didn’t _do_ anything! It was everybody else! Shalua, Shelke, Cid, Yuffie _-_ ”

“Vincent?”

He sits back down, hard on the bed. He hangs his head, “Yes, _Vincent_.”

“There has been no news on that front, though Vincent Valentine can look after himself. But you already know that, don’t you?”

He is almost certain he knows exactly where Vincent is. He is not following. Vincent is not coming back either. 

> _(“You’re not thinking of giving up, are you?")_

“I hope you’re not going to make me regret spending all my time here.”

“I’m not about to go hurling myself off the nearest highway, Tseng.”

“Good to hear. Now we have established that; you need to eat, you need a shower and you most definitely need a shave.”

 _No_. He was the one that dragged them into this battle. Shalua _and_ Vincent. It was entirely right it lay on his conscience so heavily.

He sounds bitter, “I thought you liked the beard, or do you only go for smooth-skinned blondes now?”

“Jealousy does not become you, Reeve. It doesn’t particularly suit _either_ of us. So, I’m just gonna let that one slide… You’re not exactly firing on all cylinders right now.”

“Why _did_ you stay?” 

He is angry now. Angry at his own impotence, angry at the man in front of him, angry at Vincent. He can still remember six days ago. 

“Because you don’t have space for anything else in there, I’m going to make this as uncomplicated as I can. On one level, at least, I did it to protect Rufus’ investment.”

“Ah, fuck you…”

“You’re welcome. Breakfast is in the oven. Eat, shower, shave. And remember, I still owe Mr. Valentine a debt of gratitude. I look forward to be able to repay him in person.”

* * *

The alarm on his watch rings. It is 5.30am. The night is dark before him, stars twinkling in the sky. He is on the roof, watching the heavens. He gets up, then walks down.

He is in his office again. He drove in Shadowfox for the first time since the Omega incident. He feels stronger now after his enforced rest.

Vincent is still out there, he knows where, is but he is not following. Vincent is not coming back.

At least… not just yet.

Things are finally beginning to make some sense. The numbers are no longer a mess.

The morning is spent re-establishing routines, answering calls and enquiries. The afternoon is spent making amends.

“Hello Shelke, what can I do for you?”

“Commissioner Reeve Tuesti. I have been sent here. I- require nothing in particular.”

He thinks of Shalua. For a moment he feels nausea. He takes a drink of water from his desk, he rubs at his forehead. He looks at the girl before him. Her head is tilted to the side in thought.

He reminds himself that she is at the beginning of a long journey, “Who sent you then, and for what purpose?”

“Tifa Lockheart. Cloud Strife. Cid Highwind. Shera Highwind. Barret Wallace. Yuffie Kisaragi-” 

He reminds himself that she still has a long way to go. He holds a hand up to stop the list, “Just the basics, please, Shelke.”

“I have been staying at Seventh Heaven whilst the Shera is reconstructed. It has been a week since that day. The lifestream has returned to the planet and begun to flow normally once again-“

“Shelke.” 

She stops talking. He looks at her and smiles. It is remarkable, this journey she is undertaking. He is reminded a little of himself as a child. Then he thinks that is not really true at all. She is a lot older. Besides, she has no natural _guile,_ “I’m not the person who needs to hear this story.” 

_Vincent_. She is looking at him, curiousity behind the blank face of cogitation.

Well, perhaps they are more similar than he first credited, “That is why you were sent here, I believe. Have you been in contact with Vincent Valentine?”

“Vincent Valentine…”

“You know where he is too, don’t you Shelke?”

“Vincent Valentine has been gone for a week now…”

“And that is entirely understandable. But we have all been worried. It is time for him to come back. He… does not need to be _alone_ either.” 

He watches in fascination as emotion washes over her features.

“I will re-establish contact with Vincent Valentine then, Reeve Tuesti.”

“If he doesn’t answer, _go_ to him and tell him we all sent you. I’m still counting on you.”

She nods and starts to walk away.

* * *

The alarm on his watch rings. It is 5.30am. The night is dark before him, stars twinkling in the sky. He is on the roof, watching the heavens. It is all far too romantic a vista for his liking. He gets up.

There is a soft noise behind him. He looks back to see a figure alighting deftly into a low crouch upon the rooftop.

“Reeve…. What are you doing?”

The countdown has reached its conclusion and everything is still moving forward.

Gaia is still turning. People are still slumbering peaceful in their beds. Deepground has gone, Omega has gone, Chaos has gone.

And Vincent is no longer out there, but _here_.

Reeve is looking at the stars, he is looking at those heavenly orbs. 

“Waiting for you.”


End file.
